Bushed

For some reason unbeknownst to me, PJ developed this ardent desire to see the home in Kennebunkport of the George H.W. Bush family. Maybe it was all of the discussion of local benevolent activity by the family that PJ had with Daniel, the Lyft driver yesterday, but she was determined to see the Bush compound out on the point on Ocean Road. She researched it and found directions and after we broke camp and checked out of Sandy Pines, she drove us on down the narrow coastal lanes through the fancy homes out to the gated estate on the narrow point of land sticking out into the Atlantic. In their own private inlet, they have a boat launch and grassy lawns. We weren’t the only tourists gawking, a small assemblage was parked in the skinny turnout snapping photos of the Bush home. Not much parking for an RV, so we did a slow drive by and set our navigation for Cumberland Center, Maine where PJ's mom grew up.

When PJ talked to her mother yesterday about our upcoming visit with the family in New Hampshire, the conversation sparked the idea to make a pilgrimage to her late grandparents’ house near Portland, Maine, so off we went with PJ putting the pedal to the metal.

We arrived mid afternoon and PJ parked in the lot at the Greeley High School in what passes for a downtown in tiny Cumberland Center. I tended to the dogs while she disappeared on foot to search for the family home. She was gone maybe a half an hour before returning without finding it. It seems the high school purchased the property, demolishing the house to enlarge the schoolyard. But the house wasn't the main thing, the memories were and PJ ran them all through her mind as she walked around the neighborhood where the family often came to visit when she was growing up. We pulled into the lot at the church that they used to attend and had a walk around the grounds and sat quietly for a few minutes before punching in the coordinates for Tamworth Camping Area on the iPhone.

Easy driving through small rural towns and villages as we worked our way through the back roads of Maine and on into New Hampshire. We pulled up in the late afternoon and got ourselves checked in. Slightly rustic ambience. For the price, I was expecting something maybe a step up. I knew right away that the Internet was going to be an issue when there were a few kids with pastel colored hair on lawn chairs with laptops sidling up to the main office straining to get connected. There is a group camping party here of Parrotheads this weekend culminating in a DJ hosted dance of Jimmy Buffet music tomorrow night. There is a contest underway for who can best decorate their campsite with a tropical theme.

PJ decided to catch up on our burgeoning collection of laundry. We obtained a massive amount of quarters and she headed off to do the wash. Funky machines didn't work all that well. The washer sudsed up and even after a second wash, the towels were all full of soap. We rung them out and we'll figure out something for it tomorrow.

We pulled in through the trees and parked up in spot #42 right as the next door neighbors were leashing up their pit bulls to go for a walk. A few camps down, a group of rednecks were hooting and shouting to be heard over the high volume country sound track they were laying down for their camping weekend. Long and loud volleys of high caliber gun shots erupted from the far side of the trees beyond the camp. The barrage would go on for hours until the setting sun made them cease fire. Surprisingly, the dogs handled all of the entertainment better than I would have thought. I walked the dogs down by the creek and Koda put her paws in. Back at the RV, we went inside and ran the AC for white noise and so far, so good although the power is weak, fluctuating between 105 and 110 volts. When the compressor kicks on, it sometimes dims the lights.